To be fair, the room is not very large, and it does get a bit crowded, especially before dinner. It is a little bit daunting, however, trying to maneuver my power chair, so truth be known, I suppose we were hogging the table simply because of the logistics of parking my chair. Realizing that the man was really, in his own way, simply asking to join us, Gary jumped up, rearranged the seating, and the man (who was later joined by his wife) sat down. Within moments, I realized that my first judgments of him (that he was arrogant and rude) were totally wrong and unfounded. He and his wife were delightful and interesting, and we looked forward to visiting with them every single night before dinner. In fact, we know when they are planning their next cruise, and are considering the possibility of booking ours at the same time!
I told you that story to emphasize the importance of reserving judgments about people until you get past the first impression. We are all taught that at an early age, aren't we...that first impressions are important? But honestly, they are not the end-all. Had we not been willing to see past the tough exterior and look into the heart of the man, we would have missed all that sweet fellowship we enjoyed for an entire week!
As I have mentioned before, I am a part of some online support groups. One of the things that I notice repeatedly is the perception that those of us who struggle the most--especially when we don't look like we are--are judged negatively and harshly. I have personalized plates on my car denoting our love of dance, and I plan to keep those plates. But I also have handicapped placards, which we use. I can't tell you how many times I have seen people watch us park, read our plates, then hang around as if they are the handicapped parking police until they see Gary hang the sign then get out to put my power chair together. And I hear the same story over and over again from others. It is almost as if we are supposed to be ashamed that we are using that parking spot...or even getting out of the house, for that matter! It is not easy to put on a brave front when you are constantly in pain and weakness breaks through when you least expect it to steal your ability to even hold your head up. So on the better days, we want to get out of the house that has held us hostage day after day. And that's a good thing. But it doesn't mean that we are suddenly well or that we don't need support and encouragement. It simply means it is a better day.As a woman of faith, I believe in a God who gives me HOPE that what illness has taken away will one day return to me. And having that hope means that disease and pain will never steal away my joy. That being said, every now and again, we all need to feel like we can state what "is", and cry a little bit about it without fear of judgment or labels. After all, this is a painful, life-altering event and nothing will be the same again. I recently shared what I consider to be a true statement, taken from a meme that I saw on Facebook, which was, simply, "Chronic illness is a thief". Though a friend reprimanded me for saying it--pointing out that I am, as she described me, healthy, with energy, friends and family, thereby being robbed of nothing--I still stand by my statement. Yes, by the grace of God only, I am still alive, and I am rich in many, many ways. But I am not healthy (at last count, I have more than 20 diagnoses, several of which are life-threatening) and do not have energy despite the brave face I put on for the outside world. I am no longer able to drive, my dreams of ballroom and country/western dancing (at least for now) are over. Were it not for my IVIG treatments every 2 weeks, I would be unable to fight infection, to chew or swallow, and would struggle for each and every breath. To her credit, she also said that we don't have to give up our dreams altogether, but they can and do change, and that the challenges in life make us better and stronger people. She's right about that. I am the daughter of the Most High God--Jehovah Rapha, the God who heals. I am trusting Him to do that, and pray that I never appear to feel sorry for myself in the meantime. But the fact remains, of this I am certain: Chronic illness is a thief. How I choose to face the loss is up to me. And I choose HOPE. In light of all of this, perhaps we should all look beyond the surface, beneath the facade, and into the hearts of those around us who are suffering. We just might see something entirely different than what we expected.
I'd like to take a moment to say thank you to my support group Secret Sister, who lovingly and beautifully created the Autoimmune Warrior Caricature of me that I have posted here. It is amazing and I am proud to have it on my page.
God bless you, I love you...
Kathie Lea
"Every way of a man is right in his own eyes, but the Lord weighs the heart." (Proverbs 21:2)
